Mass Effect: Inheritance
by Gehenna79
Summary: The Reapers have been defeated, but the war is far from over. Humanity has inherited a conflict over a billion years in the making, and only one man has the strength to lead the galaxy in the fight against evil.
1. Chapter 1

**Three Days After the Firing of the Crucible**

 **The Planet Earth**

* * *

There are men who run away from danger, and men who run towards it.

Alliance Navy Staff Sergeant Atlas Miller was one of the latter. Three days had passed since the apparent victory over the Reapers, their demise punctuated by an impressive display of bright crimson energy ejected from the Crucible. The celebration had yet to come for the people of Earth. For months, the resistance had jumped from foxhole to foxhole, just trying to stay alive. The major cities of their world had been reduced to rubble and ashes, and the shock of it all being over in an instant had made things seem too surreal. The only other group that could relate were the Turians, who were never at ease anyway. Many of the Krogan were honestly disappointed.

Atlas remembered reading a book about World War One at the academy, about how at the end, the same thing happened. People who got used to living in hell didn't recognize what heaven looked like anymore. He was pulling it together, despite the nagging concerns about his family stowed away in the back of his mind, but others...others would have a tough time adjusting. If other problems didn't threaten to shatter the peace again, that was.

Atlas, four other Alliance Marines, one of which had been under his command three days ago during the assault on London, and a Turian by the name of Garrus Vakarian, all sat silently in the shaking hull of a UT-47A Kodiak transport shuttle. Its destination: the Citadel, or, as the men were calling it now, the Crucible, which was still hovering over the planet. Their mission: to retrieve Lieutenant-Commander John Shepard, or failing that, his body.

The Turian had been given command by the brass in this operation. Nobody complained about taking orders from a Turian this time. Everybody knew who he was, and everybody knew his relationship to the LC. Turians were tough sons of bitches, Atlas knew that, but this one was a badass even by their elevated standards. Atlas was a man who couldn't stand not speaking, but he didn't know exactly what to say to the esteemed alien. Didn't know what was appropriate. So instead, he had started tapping his knee to a rhythm of his own.

Eventually, the Turian set his gaze on Atlas, eyes hidden by the face of his spherical helmet. Atlas slowly came to a stop, and awkward silence resumed. Finally, the man to Atlas' right, Private Cooper, a dumb kid from Benning, asked Atlas, "You think he'll be alive, sir?"

 _Goddamn it boy_ , Atlas imagined his eyes rolling around a full seven hundred and twenty degrees into his skull and sighed, "Private..."

"There's no knowing what's on there," said Garrus quietly, finger silently tapping the mid-section of his Viper marksman rifle.

Silence reigned again for a moment. Underneath his own helmet, Atlas licked his lips. He leaned inwards, cracking his neck and feeling the sweat pool up in his armor. _Damn body bucket_ , he complained inwardly.

"All the Reapers just went and died," another man, Corporal Shin, commented, "There wouldn't be any up there. I wonder if those creepy...what you call'em, the Bug things? I saw 'em once on a tour..."

"The Keepers," answered Garrus again. Every time he spoke it was like slick oil. Most Turians didn't know how to actually speak English. They used their translators, or used interpreters. But this one did, "The Keepers are a Reaper creation. So they could be gone. But the Collectors are still alive, so we'll see."

"Excuse me, sir," continued Shin, "But didn't you take out the Collectors with Commander Shepard? I'm curious as to why they are still around at all."

"Yes, Shepard and I, and our team, we took out the Collector's base of operations. But there were two other ships still active despite this. Beyond that, I'm not sure what's classified and what's not for you humans."

"Of course, sir."

Suddenly, the pilot, Steve Cortez, announced from the cockpit, "We're about to land on the Citadel, boys. Thirty seconds."

The men all got up, stacking beside the door. The Kodiak shook a bit, before coming to a complete stop. The door slid open, and the five of them exited the craft in a wedge-shaped formation.

"I'll wait here," Cortez informed them. He was a cool, calm guy with a reflective forehead. Atlas knew he was also a member of the Normandy crew as well. But he, as well as Garrus and the other member of Shepard's ground team, Dr. Liara T'soni, had been left behind, the Normandy nowhere to be found. This was a secret that only people on Hackett's ship, like Atlas, knew. That would be the next mystery Atlas would have to solve.

They stepped out onto the loading docks of Citadel Security. Abandoned skycars were everywhere, most upturned and wrecked, but neither human nor Keeper bodies. The station was as silent as a grave, the lights set to a dull and dim red. The walls of the Citadel seemed tighter than ever before, and sparks of some kind rippled between them.

"The Station's changed," observed Cooper.

"Well no shit, genius," replied Shin.

"Stow it, Marines," growled Atlas. "On your order, Vakarian sir." Atlas had no idea what to call the...man?

Garrus nodded and looked around. "No sign of a struggle. Let's get to headquarters. We can run a program through their feeds, find out what's happened here."

"You think there's anybody alive?" asked Atlas.

"Possibly. I'm surprised there's any oxygen here. You think the Reapers would have shut that off, with the gravity, when they took over the place."

"Yeah, sir. I got a bad feeling about this. Your orders should we encounter any civilians, though?"

Garrus paused for a moment, then said, "We deal with them later. Let's focus on our mission first. Stay sharp."

They moved through the loading docks, checking their corners quietly. They moved up a flight of stairs. Only weeks ago, this place had been the scene of a great battle between C-Sec and the Terrorist organization known as Cerberus, who had managed to get on the station through secrecy. When that had happened, Atlas had been on Noveria, taking the fight to the Reapers there. Cerberus had also had a presence but had been rooted out by Commander Shepard himself not soon after they had arrived.  
Some of the scorch marks from mass accelerator rounds still remained on the walls and on the furniture. There was no smell in the air, and everything seemed lifeless.

 _Just remember_ , Atlas thought to himself, _the Citadel is just one big trap. And it worked on us once before. Fool me once, mother used to say, but you can't get fooled again._

 _No, can't think about Mom and Dad. Not yet. Not until this crap is dealt with_. They moved through the headquarters, the officers and the holding cells, still finding no bodies. Maybe the Reapers had them ejected into space when they moved the Citadel across the Mass Relays. That was another question, why had the Reapers taken the Crucible to Earth and not somewhere the Citadel forces couldn't have gotten to, like the middle of a black hole or something? For creatures supposed to be so smart, there were so many blatant errors, or so they seemed. Atlas knew that enemies wanted to make you think they were less competent than they actually were. Maybe the war hadn't ended. Maybe this had all been a trap. If so, it had both worked and failed for the Reapers at least.

"I used to work here," muttered Garrus softly as they cleared another pair of rooms on either side of a long hallway.

"You did? You were a cop?" asked Atlas.

"Yeah. Something like that. Seems like a lifetime ago."

"Yeah, I know what you mean, sir."

They finally reached the Commander of C-Sec's headquarters. It was surprisingly uninspired, just an office with a better view of the petitioner's plaza. Still no bodies, still no sign of the Keepers yet. Yet things were still eerie.

"Here," Garrus gestured to a terminal, "Shin, Doyle, cover the door while we do this."

"Yes, sir!" the two replied.

Garrus activated his omni-tool and began interfacing with the console. Atlas scanned the room. He looked at the overturned furniture, the files on the floor, the picture of an older man, an older woman, and two grown sons, the glass in the frame cracked. Atlas picked it up and examined it. On the back of the frame, in marker was written "July 3rd, 2185." Happier times, obviously.

"Commander Bailey's," said Garrus, not looking up from his work.

"I'm sorry, sir?" asked Atlas.

"The man in the picture. That's Commander Bailey. I knew him, not as well as Shepard, but I knew him. I assume that's his family...ah, here we go. Camera footage. This is what we need."

Atlas looked over at the picture again, then set it down respectfully on a shelf nearby. He walked over to the console to see what he needed to see.

They stood there for nearly an hour, watching samples of video footage. The Reapers had arrived en masse and taken the station. Indeed, as Atlas had thought, the Reapers had ejected the majority of the residents out into space when they had moved it through, though not all. This included most of the Keepers, save those who were guarded by walls and ceilings within the many tunnels running through the station. Then...the real horror started.

Human bodies were getting shipped by the thousands, dumped in areas around the station. Cerberus troops appeared with strange vats, setting them up all over the Presidium, constructing tubes that led beneath the Citadel Tower. So far, they hadn't seen this yet themselves, but they had yet to get outside. Then, the Cerberus troops stopped what they were doing, and Citadel ships began appearing in space nearby.

"They were trying again," said Garrus.

"Trying again to do what?" asked Atlas.

Garrus remained silent, "To build a Reaper."

Atlas stared, unsure of what to say. Garrus went back to scrolling through video feeds until finally, he found one. "There!" he exclaimed, "Shepard!" He held it up for Atlas to see.

"I see him," yes, the man was limping, badly hurt with his body burned and bloody, but alive, stumbling down a dark alley littered with human bodies. They watched as he walked along, until he reached the Citadel's control room. There, he met with the honorable Admiral Anderson, the man that had led the resistance on Earth. It looked like they were ready to close the Crucible arms. But then...

"Illusive Man," hissed Garrus.

"The Cerberus guy?"

"Yes."

In came a man in a jacket, eyes aglow, skin burned black in many places across his face and neck. Between the three of them, there was a confrontation. The Illusive Man had the upper hand at first, revealing some kind of biotic power. But in the end, Shepard managed to take him out. What surprised Atlas though, was how long it took.

After that, Shepard opened up the Citadel arms. He fell to the ground next to Anderson, and there was a pause. After that, the feeds cut.

"We need to get there," Garrus ordered, "Let's move out."

"Sir!" Shin ran into the room, "We got company! Cerberus troops inbound, landing in the plaza."

Garrus nodded, "Defensive positions. I'll take overwatch upstairs. Doyle, come with me. The rest, stay down here."

"Yes, sir." Garrus and Corporal Doyle left, while Atlas and the rest ran down the hallway. They upturned some tables and took cover behind a secretary's desk, just as a trio of Cerberus shuttles arrived, hovering over the plaza. Troops descended from the shuttles and hovered on their jet boots for a moment before setting foot on the ground. Most of them were standard assault troopers, equipped with semi-automatic Mattock assault rifles, but there were also a pair of Centurions, shielded officers who were also equipped with electric stun batons and smoke grenades. It was best to avoid them close up, if not altogether.

Atlas and his men lay down a field of fire, popping rounds out of their Avenger assault rifles. The Cerberus forces were forced to take cover as well, pieces of glass and metal chipped off and sent flying from near misses. The Cerberus troopers fired shots behind their heads, until one of the Centurions threw a smoke grenade that filled the room up with a cloud of thick, white fog.

Atlas called out one that was sneaking around the left flank, trying to move from cover to cover and gain a line of fire on Atlas and his squad. From above, on the second floor, Garrus lined up the shot perfectly within the sights of his rifle, and with the help of explosive rounds, the trooper's head was gone in a spray of brain and bone.

The rest of the Cerberus targets stayed more cautious this time, focusing their fire on Garrus and Doyle above. Atlas saw an opportunity to cause some damage and shouted, "Cooper, throw a frag!"

"On it," Cooper pulled a grenade out and primed it, tossing it high over the battlefield and straight into the ranks of the troops. Like roaches before the light, the Cerberus troops scattered, allowing Garrus to pull another headshot. The explosion of heat and shrapnel took out the shields of the Centurion, as well as the life of another trooper. The other Centurion ordered them to fall back to a group of offices to the north of the plaza, where the old Hanar embassy had been.

"Order to pursue?" Atlas asked Garrus over his helmet's earpiece.

"No, let'em run. We need to get Shepard and ourselves out of here as soon as possible."

* * *

Cortez swung around and picked them up at the plaza, taking them as close as possible to the Control room. They landed towards the very top of the Presidium, at the edge of a long, dark hallway. When they left the shuttle again, they were bombarded by a foul odor, the smell of dead, rotting flesh from piles of corpses lining the corridor. All of them were humans. Finally, Atlas saw a Keeper.

"Are they friendly?" asked Shin, "Can you touch one?"

"I wouldn't advise that," remarked Cooper, "You might get indoctrinated."

"Shut up!" barked Atlas, "We're on a mission, remember?"

Garrus said nothing and led them into the darkness. They turned all their flashlights on, walking slowly, listening to the slow grinding of the Citadel's walls scrape against each other, the low hum of electricity. They felt a strange coolness in the air, and Atlas swore he could hear a whisper at the back of his spine.

"There's evil here," whispered Cooper to himself.

"Just your nerves man," said Shin.

To himself, Atlas couldn't help but agree. Especially with all the bodies near his feet. He could barely move without stepping on them. Some were beyond recognizable, their faces torn away to mush. Atlas had seen bodies before, but not like this. Not in the way that they were just...things. Like they were never people.

Finally, they came to a pass. Underneath, moving blocks of metal with cracks that led to an empty abyss. One stray fall and it could be the end, with only a narrow bridge across. One at a time, they crossed it. Atlas tried not to look down. He was afraid of heights.

They came into the same room where the Illusive Man had confronted Shepard and Anderson. The view from the balcony was astounding, especially now with the arms of the Citadel and the planet Earth in full view. If they had time, Atlas would have liked to take a moment to bask in it. Instead, they swept the room, finding no trace of Shepard, but the dead body of Admiral Anderson, the skin icy cold to the touch.

"The Admiral," gasped Cooper. "Admiral Hackett thought he had died in London, vaporized."

"Guess not," Atlas replied solemnly. "We should get his body out of here."

"What about his?" Cooper gestured to the Illusive Man's corpse nearby.

"Just leave it," said Shin dismissively.

"There's got to be some clue where Shepard went," interrupted Garrus, "But what?"

Atlas scanned the room, looking this way and that. Suddenly...

"Hey! What was that?" The other soldiers and Garrus looked at him. Out of the corner of his eye, Atlas had seen a blue light appear and quickly run off.

"You see something Sergeant?" asked Garrus, mandibles touching in confusion.

"Yeah. I don't know what, though. Should we pursue?"

"Go check it out, take Cooper with you."

"Roger that," he replied nervously. The two of them went back into the corridor. This time, both he and Cooper saw it briefly, in the opposite direction. It almost, for a brief second, looked like a person. They continued to follow it, strolling through chest-high piles of bodies stacked in greater density. At one point, Cooper had to shove some out of the way with brute force. But eventually, they came towards a great collapse in the ceiling.

Large pieces of rubble had collapsed inwardly, and a light was shining from above the Presidium. Piles of dust and metal were everywhere.

Atlas walked underneath the hole, looking up through the wreckage. He could see the structure of the Crucible outside.

"What...is this?" he wondered aloud.

"Sir!" shouted Cooper, as he began pulling rubble off and throwing it to the side. "You gotta take a look at this!"

"What is it Private?" Atlas walked over, and looked over Cooper's shoulder. A man groaned in pain, and Atlas said, "Oh my god. It's Shepard. He's alive."


	2. Chapter 2

**3 Hours Later**

 **Onboard the SSV _Everest_**

* * *

Liara T'soni sat by the window of her cabin, looking out towards the aftermath of the battle. Over four hundred ships had rallied together; Turians, Salarians, Asari, Geth, Quarians and even Batarians had all joined together for the cause of survival, and nearly half of those ships had been lost, now floating lifeless in Earth's orbit. On the surface, thousands of Krogan had joined with Human and Turian forces to turn the tide. Everybody's casualties had been high, but peace had finally been attained.

Yet Liara was feeling anything but peace, fatigue yes, a dull grinding fatigue that had only been delayed by months of do-or-die necessity. _You were a fool to think we'd sacrificed enough_ , she thought to herself, _to think it would be that easy_.

The Reapers had been defeated but the Mass Relays were in shambles, sundered apart into separate pieces. The Geth had shared their fate. Thousands of service men and women from all species were stranded on a scarred world of rubble and ashes. All major fuel depots in the Sol system had been destroyed, and food supplies for the Turians and Quarians, who required a special diet to match their chemistry, would soon run out. The biggest problem of the day had been solved, only to be replaced by ten new ones, each one worse than the one that came before it.

But Liara was thinking little of this. Her mind was completely absorbed by the desire to know whether or not Shepard was still alive. If he was truly dead, then let her know now so that she could mourn properly. If he was alive, let it also be known so that she could hold him in her arms once again. But waiting...waiting was too unbearable.

These thoughts had occupied her for hours. The petty rations left on the table in her room had been left untouched. Her terminal remained closed, and all the lights were off save the soft glow of the lamp on her desk.

Eventually, she began to nod off and fall asleep. At first, it was dreamless, a blank but dark slate. Then she began to see images of home, of Thessia. Of beautiful gardens and elegant architecture that rose to embrace the sky. Of her mother, Matriarch Benezia, still alive and smiling, wearing her favorite yellow dress. Her mother watched Liara play in the sand, digging it up to find old Prothean ruins.

Suddenly, the sky began to turn dark red, followed by the bright flash of lightning. The wind picked up severely, sending the branches of the trees shaking to and fro. The clouds parted, and the Reapers appeared, releasing their echoing roar that had instilled terror in the hearts of billions, releasing hordes of Husks and Marauders and Banshees...

...Liara gasped and woke up, sweat pouring down her forehead. Maybe now she realized why she hadn't slept for so long.

... _knock, knock, knock_...

Someone was at the door. Liara got up and put on a green robe and answered it. It was one of Hackett's aides.

"We've brought him," they said, "He's alive."

* * *

Liara's heart was pounding like a drum as she forced her way into the medical ward. A pair of marine on guard grabbed her, but before she had a chance to struggle, Admiral Hackett came up and exclaimed, "At ease men!"

They let her go. Liara turned to the old man and said, "Thanks."

Hackett nodded, and the two of them walked together down a long hallway. There were soldiers gathered everywhere, as well as Garrus, who had just taken his helmet off, revealing his scarred, reptilian face.

"Liara," he said. The two of them shared a quick hug, before she asked, "How is he?"

"Heavily dehydrated. Badly burned. Broken ribs, broken legs. Internal bleeding. We're lucky he's still alive. A few more hours, he might have been beyond saving."

"Its as bad as I feared," Liara replied.

Garrus held his tongue. She looked through the window, holding her hand to the glass, and saw him hooked up to a drip, wearing a gown. He was sleeping, head propped up on a pair of pillows. His face was cut and scarred, his lips swollen, his eyes blackened. Some of his hair had been singed off by flame.

"When can I go in?" Liara asked Hackett.

He sighed, "I would let you in now but...I need you on something important Liara."

"More important than Shepard?" she asked hotly.

"At this moment, yes," he gestured her to follow him over to the side. Garrus came along.

"I need you at a summit as soon as possible," Hackett whispered, "a meeting between the greatest technical minds in the fleet. Our only chance of saving the Turians and Quarians is to rebuild the Charon relay. You told me once, when we were discussing the Crucible on Mars, that you had some ideas about that. I need your input."

"My input?" Liara asked, "I said I had some ideas...I don't know if I'm qualified. It was my father who had come up with everything."

"Its better than what most have," Hackett continued, "Right now I'll take anybody. We don't have time to debate this. We need solutions, and we need them now. The moment Shepard wakes up, I'll call you personally to come back."

Liara looked to Garrus, who nodded, "Don't worry Liara," he put a comforting, three-fingered hand on her shoulder, "I'll be here to keep an eye on him. Do something to keep your mind off him, and before you know it, he'll be up and asking for you."

Liara stared in silence for a moment, then nodded in agreement, "Where's this meeting?"

"Its going to take place on the _Neema_ , Han'Gerrel's ship. You'll be meeting with Daro'Xen and someone the Salarians brought with them."

"Xen?" Liara crossed her shoulders skeptically, "You know she's insane right?"

"All of us had to be at least a little insane to pull this victory off. I'm aware though. Still, she's one of our best bets. Now go. There's a shuttle waiting for you in hangar 4, ask for Sergeant Miller, he'll be your escort."

"Alright then," Liara walked away. She looked back one last time at Shepard, watching a nurse attend to him. Then she turned and left, already regretting that she hadn't tried harder to stay.

* * *

Atlas pitched the baseball fairly hard, and Cooper caught it easily. Cooper threw it back, but before Atlas caught it he heard someone yell, "Sarge!"

"Yeah...Ow!" The baseball had hit his back just as he turned around.

"Sorry!" yelled Cooper. They had been playing catch in the hangar, after being given a leisure rotation on that day's duty roster. That is, until his charge had arrived.

Hackett had just told Atlas he needed to escort somebody, but he hadn't specified who. It was an Asari, a beautiful blue humanoid with tentacles instead of hair. Atlas knew she was another alien big with the brass as well, just like Garrus.

"Hello, ma'am," he said cheerily, taking off his mitt and throwing it on the ground. "We're all set to go. Cortez is waiting in the shuttle, I -"

"Let's go then," she said curtly, walking towards the shuttle without missing a beat.

Atlas watched her leave then looked over at Cooper, who merely shrugged.

He put his helmet back on and followed. He jumped in the shuttle, and soon enough they were off.

The first few minutes were silent, Atlas looking around the room, Liara looking down at her toes. Finally, Atlas mustered the courage to ask, "I'm sorry, but I wasn't given your name?"

Liara looked up at him. Gave him a long, good look, analyzing every feature of his face, from the cleft chin to the sharp jaw, then answered, "Liara. Liara T'soni."

"You served on the _Normandy_." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes, with Shepard."

"You knew him well? I mean, personally."

She stared flatly at him, lips pursed. "We are lovers."

"Oh." Atlas swallowed. "I see. Well then I guess you have me to thank for bringing him back to you, Ms." Atlas imagined himself tipping a fedora.

Liara nodded, "You're right. Thank you. Sorry if I seem distracted, my mind is on Shepard."

"He'll pull through, Liara. Don't worry. A man like Shepard...his story can't end here. And it won't."

"How do you know?" she asked, wondering how a common soldier could come to this conclusion.

"My parents..." Atlas began slowly, thoughts brought back to the void of knowledge in his brain, about where they were and if they were even alive, "My parents were college professors, they taught literature. They specialized in ancient mythology. Human mythology, I mean. Both of them loved stories of Greek gods and heroes. They named me after one, a god, I mean. Atlas, the god that held up the sky. Point is, I know what a hero should look like, and Shepard matches the description. He beat the Sovereign, he took out the Collectors, and he ended the War, with a little help from his friends of course. And I know that after a fight like this, the hero lives and gets to be with the woman he loves for the rest of his days."

Liara's eyes began to water, but she sniffled and wiped it away with her arm, trying her best to ignore it. "Stories are just stories, Atlas. Real life is hardly so fair."

Atlas shrugged, "True, but the greatest stories always have a grain of truth, or nobody would care to hear them. Some people don't get a happy ending, but we can't give up on our own. My parents...I've been worried about them the last month. They were doing an exchange program...teaching your compatriots at a University on Thessia. Asari who wanted to learn more about human culture and history."

Liara felt a little numb, remembering the devastation she had witnessed, "I see."

"I know things were bad there. The last message I got out to them was to head for rural areas. I knew that the Reapers focus on cities first, before sweeping the countryside. I figure they have a better chance, so long as we get the Crucible to fire. But truth is, I don't know. No idea when I'll find out either. But there's no reason to think they are gone, is there?"

"I'm sorry," Liara commented, "But I've never met a soldier with so much optimism."

Atlas laughed, "Why wouldn't I be? The war is over, after all. Things should go back to normal."

Liara forced herself to smile, "I hope so, Atlas. I hope so."

* * *

 **The _Neema_**

Atlas noticed that Quarian ships were somewhat ramshackle, the downside of having to buy used ships from other cultures. The walls seemed to be grimy, the paneling on the walls was patchy and non-existent in some places, and there were crates literally in every free area of space. It was like walking through a maze of them, a maze made worse by the growing of vegetables from the ceiling.

"Wait," said Atlas aloud, "If the Quarians grow their own food on their ships, can't they give some to the Turians?"

"Most of the liveships were left on Rannoch," replied Liara as they were led down the corridors of the ship by a detachment of several Flotilla marines, armed to the teeth and wearing red enviro-suits. "They only brought a handful with them. It will not be enough to support the Quarians and an entire army of Turians."

"So how's that problem going to get fixed?"

"That's what we're here to find out."

They entered a wide, open room, kind of like a public forum, with a raised dais at the back of the room, centered. There were potted plants set up in a perimeter around the forum, with small areas with tables set up on the sides. There were some Quarians in there already, but the focus was on two, Han'Gerrel and Daro'Xen, who were discussing something in the middle of the room. 'Gerrel's suit was a light beige color, the mask of his helmet very dark, so that his eyes appeared only as two bright coals, while 'Xen's was black, her mask a bright purple.

"...what's the matter now, the Geth are gone, 'Gerrel. As sad as that makes me to say, we can still salvage something from their ships, I do not understand why I can not send your troops over there immediately!"

"Because I don't want them there, Xen! We need to focus on repairing our ships, and starting the project Hackett told us about. Ah," he noticed Liara approaching, "Dr. T'soni, good to see you again."

Liara couldn't help but smile. The last time she had been in the same room with him, her lover had punched the Quarian Admiral in the chest, in response to the Admiral's decision to fire upon Shepard while inside a Geth Dreadnought a few months ago. "Good to see you as well, Admiral. And Admiral Daro'Xen, I presume?"

"Charmed," replied the female Quarian without interest. She lacked none of the cute mannerisms and tenacious loyalty that Tali possessed.

 _Oh, Tali, where are you_? Liara was reminded again of the missing _Normandy_. With no mass relays, that too, would have to be put on hold.

"I take it you two have some ideas on how to complete our objective," she said.

"Not really," Daro'Xen answered spitefully, "The Quarian people have never had the time or luxury to consider such lofty technological achievements. Now, a human is expecting us to dance like pyjaks and get this done before we and the Turians starve to death. Last time I checked, I was a scientist, not a miracle worker."

"It was a human that saved our people from extinction," Han'Gerrel reminded her coolly, " And what else but a miracle, is the Crucible?"

"Don't forget that it was you that almost sent our people to extinction in the first place," Han'Gerrel raised an angry finger, " And The crucible had the support of an entire galaxy, 'Gerrel. It didn't rely on the exhausted resources of a single fleet."

"Yes, yes. Resources limited. Labor diminished. Loss of Geth tragic. But, hope not lost," a chipper voice spoke from behind Liara. She turned to face it, and could not believe her eyes.

"M-m-Mordin? Mordin Solus? You're alive?"

"Of course," the Salarian doctor said cheerily, wearing his signature white lab coat. "Surprised you didn't know, being the Shadow Broker and all. Crucible a fascinating project. Mass Relays, as well. Our hands, the salvation of the Fleet depends upon," he took a deep breath into his nostril slits, "Let's get to work."


End file.
